The Superiority of Biblical “Porn”

It’s arguable that the Song of Songs can be accurately classified as pornography.

It’s certainly not low-class pornography, but it is certainly “naughty” and inspires the reader to explicitly imagine sexual acts that would normally only be found in pornography.

Regardless of how you classify it, what matters is understanding it.

Towards that end, I have posted a rendition of the Song below. I have used Dr. Haupt’s “restoration of the Hebrew text” as my basis for the sequence. While I’d normally be skeptical of attempts to reorder the sequence of the received text, I find that Dr. Haupt’s version simply makes sense while the received version is mostly nonsensical. At the least, the Haupt version can stand alone as a work of art with useful insights into sexuality. It is probably the most “red pill” poem ever written.

The only limitation of Dr. Haupt’s text is that he took a good deal of liberty with the translation (it’s more of a paraphrase) and he left out a good deal of material for the sake of rhythm. But since I’m wanting to study the Song of Songs rather than read as poetry per se, I have used the Concordant Literal Version for the biblical text in place of Dr. Haupt’s paraphrase.

So all that aside, here is the Song of Songs restored to what is (most likely) the proper sequence.

(There are 12 scenes that are not necessarily connected through a unifying plot. The titles are Dr. Haupt’s, not mine.)

The song of songs, which is Solomonic

1. Procession of the Bride

Who is this ascending from the wilderness
Like pillars of smoke,
Who is this ascending from the wilderness,
Intimately leaning on her darling?

Behold, his couch, that which is Solomon’s!
Sixty masterful men surround it,
From the masterful men of Israel,
All of them holding a sword, taught in warfare,
Each with his sword on his thigh,
Because of alarm at night.

King Solomon made the sedan-litter for himself
From wood of Lebanon.
Its columns he made of silver,
Its bolster of gold,
Its riding seat of purple,
Its interior inlaid with love
By the daughters of Jerusalem.

Before I knew it,
My soul set me among the chariots of my princely kinsmen.
Come forth, O daughters of Zion, and see king Solomon,
With the crown with which his mother crowned him
On the day of his espousal.

2. Charms of the Bride During Her Sword-dance

Who is this who gazes forth like the dawn,
Lovely as the moonbeam,
Pure as the sunshine,
Majestic as standard bearers?

Return, return, Shulamitess;
Return, return, that we may perceive you.
What do you perceive in the Shulamitess?
Something like the Mahanaim chorus?

How lovely are your sandaled footsteps,
O princely daughter;
The curvings of your thighs are like eardrops,
The work of true craftsman hands.
And your two breasts are like two fawns,
Twins of a gazelle.

This is your stature: it is like the date palm,
And your breasts like clusters. I said,
Let me ascend into the date palm;
Let me take hold of its topmost branches.
Oh that your breasts may become like the clusters of the vine,
And the scent of your nose like apricots.

Your head upon you is like Carmel,
And the tresses of your head are like purple:
A king is bound by the strands.
Your neck is like a tower of ivory.
Your eyes are like reservoirs in Heshbon by the gate of Bath-rabbim;
Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon, watching the face of Damascus.
And your palate like the best wine.
May it go to my darling,
As evenly gliding over lips and teeth.

How lovely you are, and how pleasant you are,
O love, among rich delights.
Your belly is like a grain pile of wheat, fenced about by anemones.
Your navel is like a goblet, well-rounded, which does not lack liquor.

3. Brothers of the Bride

I am my darling’s, and my darling is mine;
He is grazing his flock among the anemones.
I am my darling’s,
And his impulse is toward me.

Like an anemone among the thistles,
So is my dearest among the daughters.

Do not stare at me because I am dusky,
Because the sun has glared upon me;
My mother’s sons burned hot against me;
They placed me custodian over the vineyards;
Over my vineyard which was for myself, I had not the custody.

Get hold of the foxes for us,
The small foxes that harm the vineyards,
For our vineyards have vine blossoms.

—

We have a young sister,
And her breasts are not yet grown.
What shall we do for our sister
On the day when she is spoken for?

If she is a wall,
We shall build a battlement of silver upon it.
We shall make bead-rows of gold for you,
With specks of silver.

And if she is a door,
We shall buttress it with planks of cedar.

I am a wall,
And my breasts are like towers;
I have, then, become in his eyes
Like one providing peace.

—

O that you were as a brother to me,
Who suckled at the breasts of my mother!
Then if I found you outdoors I would kiss you,
And no one would despise me.

I would lead you and bring you to my mother’s house,
Who has taught me.
There I shall give my affections to you.
I would give you to drink of wine that is compounded,
Of my pomegranate juice.

His left hand is under my head,
And his right arm embraces me.”

I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem,
Why do you rouse, why do you rouse up love,
When it already delights?

4. One sole love

For Solomon, there was a vineyard in Baal-hamon;
He gave out the vineyard to custodians;
Each would bring for its fruit a thousand silver pieces.

I have my own vineyard before me;
The thousand are for you, Solomon,
And two hundred for the custodians of its fruit.

Sixty queens, they may be, and eighty concubines,
And damsels may be without number,
But only one is she, my dove, my flawless one,
The only one is she of her mother,
The pure one is she of the one who bore her.

Daughters see her and call her happy;
Queens and concubines, let them praise her.

5. Protection from All Dangers

With me from Lebanon, O bride,
Come with me from Lebanon;

Regard the scene from the summit of Amana,
From the summit of Shenir and Hermon,
From the habitations of lions,
From the mountain ranges of leopards.

6. Beauty of the Lover

I was asleep, yet my heart was aroused;
The sound of my darling knocking!

I have stripped off my tunic; how should I put it on again?
I have washed my feet; how should I dirty them again?

My darling put forth his hand into the latch hole,
And my bowels clamored for him.
I arose to open for my darling;
My hands dropped myrrh,
And my fingers with overflowing myrrh–
On the handgrips of the latch. I opened for my darling,
Yet my darling had vanished; he had passed aside.

My soul had gone forth when he spoke;
I sought him, yet I did not find him;
I called him, yet he did not answer me.

The guards who go around in the city found me;
They smote me; they injured me;
They lifted my cape off me, those guards of the walls.

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,
If you find my darling, what shall you tell him?
That I am ailing with love?

“Whither has your darling gone, loveliest among women?
Whither has your darling faced?
Let us seek him with you.
How is your darling better than another darling, Loveliest among women?
How is your darling better than another darling
That thus you adjure us?”

My darling is shimmering and ruddy,
Preeminent among ten thousand.

His head is certified gold, glittering gold;
His locks are pendulous, dusky as a raven.
His eyes are like doves by channels of water,
Washed in milk, seated by a brimming pool.

His cheeks are like beds of aromatics, towers of sweet compounds;
His lips are like anemones, dropping overflowing myrrh.
His hands are like ring-bands of gold, filled with topaz;
His belly is like reflecting ivory, bedecked with sapphires.

His legs are like columns of marble, founded on sockets of glittering gold;
His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.
His palate is most sweet,
And all of him is coveted.

This is my darling, and this is my dearest,
O daughters of Jerusalem.

7. The Bride to the Bridegroom on the Morrow After the Marriage

How lovely you are, my dearest!
How lovely you are; your eyes are like doves!
How lovely you are, my darling, indeed so pleasant!

Indeed our divan is under flourishing trees,
The rafters of our grand house are cedars,
And our gutters are firs.

Like an apricot tree among the trees of the wildwood,
So is my darling among the sons;
In his shadow I covet that I may sit,
And his fruit is sweet to my palate.

He brings me to the house of wine,
And his standard over me is love.”
Support me with raisin cakes;
Reinvigorate me with apricots,
For I am ailing with love.

His left hand is under my head,
And his right arm embraces me.
While the king was in his surroundings,
My nard gave forth its scent.

A sachet of myrrh is my darling to me,
Lodged between my breasts.
A cluster of henna blossoms is my darling to me,
In the vineyards of Engedi.

Let him kiss me with kisses of his mouth.
Indeed your affections are better than wine.
As for scent, your attars are well pleasing;
Your name is like attar as it is being emptied out;
Therefore, the damsels love you.
The upright love you.

Draw me after you; let us run;
The king would bring me to his chambers.

We would exult and rejoice with you;
We do commemorate your affections as better than wine.
Eat, associates!
Drink and be drunken, friends!

My darling is mine, and I am his;
He is grazing his flock among the anemones.

While the day blows gently,
And the shadows flee,
Turn around, my darling, be you like a gazelle
Or a fawn of the deer on the sundered mountains.
Hasten away, my darling,
And be you like a gazelle
Or a fawn of the deer
On the mountains of aromatics!

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,
By gazelles or by hinds of the field:
Do not rouse, and do not rouse up love
Until it delight.

8. The Maiden’s Beauty

How lovely you are, my dearest!
How lovely you are!

Your eyes are doves behind your face veil;
Your hair is like a drove of goats that streams down from Mount Gilead;
Your teeth are like a fashioned drove that ascends from the washing;
All of them have their twin,
And there are none among them bereaved.

Your lips are like thread of double dipped scarlet,
And you mouth is comely;
Like a slice of pomegranate are your temples behind your face veil.
Your neck is like the tower of David, built for an armory;
A thousand shields are hung on it, all cuirasses of the masterful.

To my mare among the chariots of Pharaoh I liken you, my dearest.
Your cheeks are comely with bead-rows,
Your neck with threaded gems.
Your neck is like the tower of David, built for an armory;
A thousand shields are hung on it, all cuirasses of the masterful.

Your two breasts are like two fawns,
Twins of a gazelle that graze among the anemones.

While the day blows gently,
And the shadows flee,
I shall go myself to the mountain of myrrh
And to the hill of frankincense.

You are lovely, my dearest, as Tirzah,
Comely as Jerusalem,
Majestic as standard bearers.
Turn your eyes about from in front of me,
For they beset me.

Your hair is like a drove of goats that streams down from Gilead;
Your teeth are like a drove of ewes that ascend from the washing;
All of them have their twins,
And there are none among them bereaved;
Like a slice of pomegranate are your temples behind your face veil.
Turn your eyes about from in front of me,
For they beset me.

Your hair is like a drove of goats that streams down from Gilead;
You stir my heart, my sister, O bride, you stir my heart
With one glance from your eyes,
With one coil of your necklace.
How lovely are your affections, my sister,O bride,
How much better are you affections than wine,
And the scent of your attars than all aromatics!

Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, O bride;
Honey and milk are under your tongue,
And the scent of your raiment is like the scent of Lebanon.

You are a garden latched, my sister, O bride,
A garden latched, a spring sealed.
You are a spring for gardens,
A well of living waters,
Even those flowing from Lebanon.

Your runners form a park of pomegranates,
With finest fruit,
Henna blossoms with nards,
Nard and saffron, reed and cinnamon,
With all the woods of frankincense, myrrh and aloes,
With all the topmost aromatics.

Rouse, north wind, and come, south wind;
Blow on my garden that its aromatics may flow!

9. The Bride’s Fair Garden

The Bride:
Let my darling come to his garden
That he may eat its fine fruit.

Do come, my darling, let us go forth to the field;
Let us lodge among the henna bushes;
Let us go early to the vineyards;
Let us see if the vine has budded,
The vine blossom has opened,
And the pomegranates have flowered;
There I shall give my affections to you.

The mandrakes give forth their scent,
And at our portals are all fine fruits,
Both new and stored,
That I have secluded for you, my darling.”

The Bridegroom:
I descended to the walnut garden
To see the pollination about the watercourse,
To see whether the vine had budded
And pomegranates had flowered.

“My dove, in the encircling crag,
In the concealment of the cliff,
Let me see your appearance;
Let me hear your voice;
You who are dwelling in the gardens,
The partners are attending to your voice;
Let me hear it.”

“For your voice is congenial,
And your appearance is comely.”

11. Pasture Thy Kids

Do tell me, you whom my soul loves,
Where do you graze your flock?

Where do you recline them at noon?
Why should I become like a muffled woman
Beside the droves of your partners?

“If you do not know for yourself, loveliest among women,
Go forth for yourself at the heels of the flock,
And graze your kids by the tabernacles of the shepherds.”

12. Omnia vincit Amor

On my bed in the nights
I sought him whom my soul loves;
I sought him, yet I did not find him.

Let me rise now, and let me go around in the city,
Through the roadways and through the squares;
Let me seek him whom my soul loves.

I sought him, yet I did not find him.
The guards who go around in the city found me.
He whom my soul loves, have you seen him?

Barely had I passed by them
When I found him whom my soul loves;
I held him and would not slacken my grip on him,
Until I brought him to my mother’s house,
To the chamber of her who became pregnant with me.

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,
By gazelles or by hinds of the field:
Do not rouse, and do not rouse up love
Until it delight.

Place me like a seal upon your heart,
Like a seal upon your arm,
For love is strong as death,
Its jealousy hard as the unseen,
Its burning coals as burning coals of fire,
The blaze of Yah.

Many waters cannot quench love,
Nor can streams overwhelm it.
If a man should give all the wealth of his house for love,
People would despise, yea despise it.